


Meet me in the middle (touch and go)

by qgmon



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Tower Bridge, pre-ep 8, range rover sex, runaway wives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qgmon/pseuds/qgmon
Summary: ‘I’m not going to leave you. We’re in this together.’She squeezes her hand, intertwining their fingers to make sure Villanelle knows. Knows that this is how they were always supposed to end up, and that Eve is finally okay with it. No, not just okay – she wants it. She really, genuinely wants it.•••Post-ep7; pre-season finale, my take on what little we know
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 30
Kudos: 212





	Meet me in the middle (touch and go)

**Author's Note:**

> This had to be written before episode 8 because once it happens, I cannot imagine it like this anymore.
> 
> Also, I've never ever written anything close to a sex scene, but my best friend said I talk about sex enough to be able to write it so hopefully she's right.
> 
> The title is from Tinashe's song 'Touch & Go', which kind of inspired the mood of this one-shot.
> 
> Enjoy. x

_Meet me in the middle.  
  
_

Eve runs after her. Having done a considerable amount of thinking over the last _n-number_ of months and figuring out that she should definitely stick to her own guns and try to actually keep the minuscule amounts of her normal life that she still has left, Eve throws it all away in a blink of an eye moments after Villanelle decides to go.

That’s what they do now. She leaves and Eve follows.

Staring at Carolyn as she cleans up the mess made out of Paul’s limp body, in a room stained with blood and years of terrible decision-making, she announces, more to herself than anyone else, that she needs to leave, too.

‘I can’t stop you.’ is all Carolyn has to offer in return.

Eve grabs her bag and runs after _her_. The only person that matters.

She quickly catches up with Villanelle, her yellow coat bright enough to spot from a mile away and seriously? _That’s_ what she picks to wear when trying to _disappear_? Although none of it matters because Eve grabs her shoulder and the younger woman turns around, calm and collected for the first time since their initial meeting; ever since they got themselves into this mess.

‘I’m going with you.’

‘Okay.’

Villanelle offers her something that resembles a smile, so brief it’s almost _not there_ , but Eve notices. The small curl of her mouth, the glint in her eyes. Hazel turned gold.

‘We need to get the money.’

‘I’ll do it.’ Eve whispers and cups Villanelle’s face, the way she’s done once, before. Only now it’s different.

It’s as soft as feathers, as warm as a cosy blanket on a cold winter’s night and so incredibly genuine. Everything is different now.

‘Meet me in the middle.’

Villanelle nods and they part. Not for long, though; not this time.

•••

Everything goes blank when she makes her way to the safe – Eve doesn’t know how she got there, really. It’s all dark and gloomy and there isn’t a single soul in the building to stop her from doing what she needs to do. She goes through every step without much effort, following Konstantin’s instructions blindly. This reminds her how good she used to be at following rules, back in the day, before she decided to, quite frankly, _fuck it all off_ and go with her gut feeling instead. She knows she’s only good at this now because it’s something she specifically _should not_ be doing.

But Villanelle trusts her and she’s waiting, and that’s everything Eve needs to know in order to follow through with it all.

The hacking, the crouching, the careful steps following the walls of the room that lead her all the way to their jackpot. She grabs the credit cards and the pin instructions and the stacks on stacks _on stacks_ of cash she finds inside. Eve shoves it all into her £35 bag from Marks and Spencer’s and basks in the irony of it. Ridiculous. She really ought to buy something _designer_ for missions like this.

The blur continues as Eve makes her way back to the main entrance and breathes in, out, _in and out_ before giving the heavy glass door a final push. She takes a step forward and then drops to the ground so hard she’s sure her knees are scraped and bleeding now. The sirens are on and they’re so loud it eats at Eve’s brain, screaming and screaming and _screaming_ at her some more until she cannot take it any more. Well, something had to go wrong, didn’t it?

Eve props herself up and makes sure she has everything she needs within a quarter of a second before she takes one final breath in and _runs_.

She runs like she’s never run before, and maybe she should’ve taken up jogging before she agreed to do this but now is not the time to contemplate the ‘what would’ve happened if?’s.

She sprints down the road to where she’s supposed to meet the woman who is the sole reason she’s now carrying around six million euros in her cheap bag, and _surely_ this is the moment when one’s life is supposed to flash before their eyes? The moment when someone is definitely going to chase you and push you down and leave you for dead before you can even say a word to try and defend yourself. When it’s so evident that you’re fucked, they’re fucked, this whole plan is _so fucked_ that there’s nothing else left to do but remember everything that’s ever happened and finally see where it all went wrong. Where _did_ it go wrong?

Eve keeps running and waits for it to happen. Waits to see her family, her childhood, Niko smiling at her and Bill’s stupid face in the office before all of this; before the assassin and the chasing and the killing and _steali_ _ng-_

But it never comes. She cannot imagine any of it because the only thing on her mind and the only thing she can see is that damned yellow coat and _her_ face when she finally turns around after Eve screams, involuntarily:

‘Villanelle!’

She’s there, standing and waiting for her in the middle of _Love Lane_ , and Eve laughs at how ridiculously fitting all of it is. Perhaps her life didn’t flash in front of her eyes because this whole thing – the lying, tracking people down, the deaths and the yearning were leading her up to this very moment. The moment they finally meet on Love Lane, together, as equals.

Villanelle grabs her hand as soon as Eve reaches her and squeezes, hard. Not hard enough to hurt but just enough to make the brunette look up, concerned.

‘You came.’

‘What? Of course I did, that was the plan-’ and then it dawns upon her.

Villanelle is smiling – a full smile this time. Her teeth shine so bright and she’s radiating heat, liquid gold running down her cheeks. She finally realises that the younger woman wasn’t sure if Eve would actually go through with their plan. A part of her expected to be left there hanging, alone again. The usual. Eve feels a tightness in her chest. She knows, in that moment, that she will never let Villanelle feel like that again.

‘I’m not going to leave you. We’re in this together.’

She squeezes her hand, intertwining their fingers to make sure Villanelle _knows_. Knows that this is how they were always supposed to end up, and that Eve is finally okay with it. No, not just okay – she wants it. She really, genuinely _wants it_.

‘We need to go,’ Villanelle tugs at her, never letting go of Eve’s hand, ‘I parked just around the corner.’

•••

The black Range Rover feels more like a boat at sea, if the night was horribly windy and the waves were crashing into said boat with a force strong enough to lift it up and throw it all the way down into the bottom, the way Villanelle is driving it. Her foot firm on the pedal, she’s turning left and then she makes a quick right and then goes all the way down to Bank where she perfectly manoeuvres the passing vehicles before yanking at a slight left and going at a _very illegal_ 100 miles-per-hour in the middle of London city centre.

She then makes another right and their tires are screeching, and Eve grabs the door handle with her right hand and places her left on Villanelle’s thigh, gripping as if her life depended on it. And honestly? It probably does.

Villanelle looks at her for just a moment before jerking the car into yet another right turn, and the look on her face is impossible for Eve to read. She wonders, _quietly_ , but she might as well say it aloud because she’s sure the blonde can read her like an open book by now. What are you thinking, what are you thinking, _what are you thinking?!_

The Range Rover is forced to take one more turn and Eve sighs as they approach Tower Bridge. Beautiful, majestic, masterfully lit and very much _closed_ by the looks of the red signs scattered all over the entrance. She’s about to say something but Villanelle chooses not to notice any of it. She drives through the warnings and they’re on the bridge now, the black vehicle owning the entire place.

They come to a halt.

Villanelle turns the engine off.

Eve looks at the younger woman and she cannot read her, still. What is happening?

‘I think this is a good time to tell you I don’t know what I’m doing.’ Villanelle whispers.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t have a plan, Eve,’ the blonde smiles; it’s so warm and genuine Eve feels that _tug_ at her heart again, ‘this is as far as it goes. You can leave, if you want to.’

‘I’m not leaving.’ comes out of her mouth immediately.

Villanelle undoes her seatbelt and takes her hands off the wheel. She turns her whole body to Eve now.

‘What should we do then?’

Eve is being looked at like she’s the only thing that matters. Villanelle’s hazel eyes have darkened and they’re staring not at her, but deep into the brunette and _through_ her. This is the moment, Eve realises, that will change their lives forever.  
_  
Touch and go._

Fuck it.

Eve launches herself at her and presses their lips together with a force. Her left hand still on Villanelle’s lap, she reaches for the younger woman’s hair with her right and grasps at her skull, pulling her closer. Fingers are in her curls within seconds, too, and Eve opens her mouth, an invitation that Villanelle accepts without question. Their tongues meet each other, moving in unison; the dance of a lifetime. Eve thrusts in deep, deep, _deeper_ and the moan that comes out of the other woman’s mouth is so pure and so sinful, she’s sure she will hear the echoes of it ringing in her ears for years to come.

Eve grabs at her neck and tries to find her way under that _stupid yellow coat_ , but Villanelle pulls back and snatches her by the collar, yanking her all the way to the back seat, pushing her down and climbing over her like a predator. Towering, on top. Just like she did in the bus.

God, that must’ve happened a lifetime ago.

Villanelle kisses her again, softer this time, and her mouth moves from Eve’s down to her neck, sucking at her pulse point for a moment before going back up to lick at her jawline and land by her ear.

‘Whatever happens, we’re in this together.’

A soft moan is all Eve can manage before Villanelle’s tongue is in her ear and then her teeth are on her, biting down _hard_.

Villanelle wastes no time and her hand starts working the brunette’s zipper while she pulls back from her side to kiss her again. Down down _down_ her hand goes and then Villanelle’s fingers are on Eve and she _moans_. The blonde can’t help but match her sounds because she can feel her, _all of her_ , soaking, and Eve is _ready_. Unlike she’s ever been before, not for anyone. This is all Villanelle.

‘Look at me.’ the blonde whispers as she starts moving her fingers in circles around her; Eve complies.

Her brown eyes meet Villanelle’s hungry ones and she’s looking at her like she wants to devour her. The feeling is mutual. Eve grabs her hand and keeps it there, encouraging her lover to go forward.  
  


She slides in a thumb for replacement and her fingers glide further and further and further _down-_

‘Ready?’

‘Yes.’

Fingers slip inside with ease; Villanelle’s mouth falls open and her breath hitches. She leans down and Eve’s lips catch her, moving as one while the hand between her thighs moves in a rhythm of its own.

It’s a lot, it’s _too much._ It’s way too hot and too intense and Eve savours every moment of it.  
  
She’s got too many clothes on her, and they’re in a car parked on Tower Bridge, and anyone could come and see them because they shouldn’t be there and they definitely shouldn’t be doing _this_ but Eve cannot find a single cell in her body that cares. Even if they get caught, even if it kills them – she’s never felt more alive.

‘If we have to die after this, I won’t mind.’ Villanelle whispers against her mouth and Eve’s sure the younger woman can read her thoughts.

She kisses her in response.

Villanelle’s fingers twist and turn inside her and then they’re _motioning_ for Eve to _come over_ , hitting and pressing at _that_ spot. Villanelle knows it’s the right spot, touching it again. And again. And again again aga _in againagain-_

It hits her like the heat of a thousand suns, enters through her open mouth and travels all the way down her whole body, burning every single one of her insides in their wake, charging her with such intensity it makes Eve’s legs tremble and her toes curl. It moves further down to meet Villanelle’s fingers and Eve breathes it all in and then she lets it all _go_.

She obliges; the sounds that Eve is making are unholy but she doesn’t do anything to keep them down. Fuck it if anyone’s coming for them and hears her. She’s coming in a whole other way herself.

Eve can see a flash of Villanelle’s bright grin right as her eyes roll all the way back into her skull. Maybe this is when her life should be flashing before her? Yet again, the centre of her world is _only_ Villanelle. She has been, from the moment they met.

Helping Eve ride the last waves of pleasure, Villanelle slowly pulls her hand away and all the way up to her mouth. She licks her fingers clean:

‘Getting rid of the evidence.’

Eve laughs out loud.

She pulls her body back up and kisses the younger woman again, tasting herself in her mouth.

‘Any chance you’ve come up with a plan by now?’

‘Easy. We need to disappear.’

She wipes down the window and opens the door, getting out of the car. She grabs Eve’s hand, looking at her for reassurance; for the last time.

Eve launches up and gets out with her.

They stand at the edge, looking down into the deep brown waters of the Thames.  
  
‘Get the money, Eve.’ something clicks in Villanelle and Eve doesn’t question it.

She quickly yanks her M&S bag out of the front passenger’s seat and the blonde finds a huge heavy brick – _where the hell did she get that from?_ \- and walks over to the driver’s side.

‘Walk away from the car, please.’

The brunette nods and does as she’s told.

Quickly, Villanelle works the keys and turns on the engine, presses the heavy item down onto the pedals and jumps to the side as the shimmering car drives into and _through_ the side of the bridge. Eve looks at the younger woman and she’s staring right back, crawling all the way up to her and grabbing Eve’s hand. Villanelle kisses her again, and brings them both up to their feet.

They walk to the edge of where the barrier used to be and watch as the river swallows their Rover. It’s almost poetic.

‘What now?’ Eve sighs.

‘We go.’

Villanelle grabs her hand and they run. Together, this time.

_Touch and go._

**Author's Note:**

> Probably my last canon one-shot of the season, before I lose my mind after the finale; come talk and cry w me on twitter @qgmon
> 
> Comments make my life. xx


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